Claudia's Big Break Page 9

  ‘Yeah, I know,’ I said. ‘I’ve realised I probably won’t end up getting married, much to my mother’s horror.’

  ‘You’ll find the right person eventually,’ said Sophie. ‘Besides, they’re all the right person until the lust wears off. And then they’re like an annoying flatmate who hogs the shower, won’t put the toilet seat down and comes home from work late expecting dinner on the table.’

  ‘Gee, when you put it like that —’ I said.

  ‘It’s true,’ said Sophie. ‘Alex doesn’t even pick up his socks.’

  ‘Yeah, but he didn’t pick them up before you were married either, did he?’ I said.

  ‘My marriage might have been a disaster, but I’m so glad I have Harry,’ said Angie, looking over at Harry and Levi who were licking pebbles and giggling. ‘He’s worth every ounce of unhappiness I went through with Pete. Harry brings a love and contentment to my life I can barely describe. And now we have the freedom to do what we like. No one will ever again tell me what to wear or when to come home, and I’ll never have to lie about the two new pairs of shoes I buy in my lunch hour.’

  I thought about my most recent shoe purchase: outrageously expensive maroon suede boots, sitting on display underneath my dressing table at home, gorgeous but unworn. Half a size too small. I swear my feet grew by the week. ‘Sounds like prison.’

  ‘It was,’ said Angie. ‘I just didn’t realise it at the time — more fool me.’

  ‘I was lucky to escape from Anthony when I did,’ Tara said.

  ‘But don’t you think your soul mate is out there somewhere?’ asked Sophie, ignoring Tara.

  ‘Maybe, but when I find them, I certainly won’t need to sign a contract telling me I have,’ said Angie.

  ‘I thought Alex was my soul mate. We used to have so much fun together.’

  And they did. Even though their weekdays were manic, with both of them working long hours, every weekend without fail they’d head to the beach or go sailing or drive to the mountains for a day’s hiking. They were always busy together, focused on enjoying each other’s company. Sophie and Alex were an ideal couple — apart from the fact that Sophie didn’t really like being Alex’s second wife.

  ‘What went wrong?’ Angie was asking her.

  ‘Life, I guess. Growing up. The pressures of Alex’s work, not falling pregnant. Falling pregnant. Having Levi.’ Sophie stood up and dusted sand off her legs.

  We watched as she strode down to the water near to where a couple of fishing boats had just pulled in.

  ‘Come on,’ I said, grabbing Levi’s and Harry’s hand. ‘Let’s see what they’ve caught.’

  We weren’t the only ones with that in mind. Several minutes later, a large crowd, including Tara and Angie, had gathered around the men, who proudly held up octopus, moray eels and mottled brown flying fishes before carefully arranging them in crates with dozens of other fish I’d never seen before. After a quick inspection, locals bargained over prices. It was loud, frenzied and fascinating to watch.

  Deals completed, several locals took their purchases to the water’s edge and, squatting on the pebbly shore, began expertly scaling and cleaning the fish in the sea. After a few minutes, I’d had enough guts and blood and turned away, but the others remained.

  Minutes later, some distance from the fish entrails, I waded into the crystal-clear but freezing ocean and caught up with Sophie.

  ‘Before you say anything,’ she said, holding up her hands, ‘I’m sorry. It’s just that sometimes I hate Alex for taking my baby’s love from me and I hate Levi for loving Alex more. I know I’m not supposed to say those things but that’s how I feel. Alex’s so affectionate with Levi. He’s never that loving with me. I’m jealous. And I’m jealous of Alex as well. The way Levi smiles at him and loves him. The way their faces light up when they’re together, I feel totally excluded. There, I’ve said it! It’s like I don’t exist. I don’t get what Angie was saying about Harry. Of course I love Levi, he’s my son, but I don’t feel an overwhelming passion for him.’

  Sophie sighed. ‘As for Alex, at the end of the day we want different things. He comes home to get away from people talking to him, but I look forward to him coming home so we can chat. We’re never on the same wavelength. I end up getting angry and going off at him for some minor irritation like leaving his shoes in the hallway and we end up having a massive fight. It’s much less hassle for me to go to bed. When I’m finally alone, I breathe a sigh of relief. I’m sure Alex does too.’

  ‘Soph, I’m so sorry.’ I hugged her in the freezing water. ‘You’re my best friend and I’m worried about you. What can I do to help?’

  ‘Nothing.’ Sophie shrugged her shoulders. ‘You have helped by bringing me here.’

  ‘But it’s —’

  ‘Given me breathing space to think about my life and what I want from it.’ She kissed me on the cheek. ‘Thank you.’

  I wasn’t sure that was exactly what I’d been going to say but I kept quiet and nodded.

  ‘Sometimes I wake up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night with the words Alex doesn’t love you screaming inside my head and I’m terrified. Terrified of him leaving me, of being alone.’

  ‘You’ll never be alone. You have me,’ I said, plastering on a huge smile and throwing my hands into the air. ‘Ta da!’

  Being alone was one thing I wasn’t frightened of. Yes, I was worried I’d never have a child of my own and I’d never stop spending money long enough to save any, but not being in a relationship? I’d been alone before and, to all intents and purposes, I was alone now. It didn’t bother me except when I was required to take a ‘plus one’ to social events. I think Tara was getting sick of having to always be my date. But maybe it wasn’t my destiny to go the traditional route and have a husband, a mortgage and 2.2 kids. I did want a kick-arse career, though, and on days when I was feeling confident and enthusiastic I really believed I shouldn’t have given up so easily on starting my own events-planning consultancy.

  Sophie and I glanced over to the beach where Levi and Harry were kicking pebbles.

  ‘True. And of course I love Alex and Levi,’ she sighed. ‘I can’t imagine my life without them, but sometimes I want more.’

  ‘Sophie,’ I started. But she disappeared under the water before I could badger her further. ‘I’m worried about you. I’ve seen this happen before,’ I said when she reappeared.

  ‘That’s the problem with lifelong friends,’ Sophie mused. ‘They know too much.’

  Sophie gazed out to sea. ‘Come on, Ms Doom and Gloom,’ she said, snapping back to her old self and glancing over at Levi who was standing at the water’s edge, calling out to her. ‘It’s no big deal.’

  ‘Okay, but promise me you’ll eat all your lunch.’

  ‘You make me sound like one of those people who take themselves off to a Swiss treatment clinic four times a year to be re-educated in what constitutes a calorie controlled meal.’ Sophie rolled her eyes, then flicked sea water in my face. ‘Race you to the shore!’ With that, she was off and paddling in the calm water towards her son.

  Later that afternoon, having caught the bus back to Fira, we walked slowly home to Marcella’s, stopping every few metres to window-shop. As Sophie had already bought several pieces of clothing and Tara had zero interest in fashion, we managed to walk in and out of those shops without opening our purses. But the temptation was too great to resist when we stopped in front of what had now become my favourite jewellery store. I had no intention of popping in and trying on rings, bracelets and other fancy trinkets, but Nikos, the jeweller, was very persuasive.

  ‘Come, lovely ladies,’ he said as Tara, Sophie, Levi and I hovered outside. ‘I cannot be drinking my special home-made wine alone. Please! Join me.’ Nikos’s deep voice, a heavily accented mix of English and Greek, was too irresistible to refuse.

  ‘You are all so beautiful,’ Nikos continued as we accepted glasses filled to the brim with red wine. ‘I bet you get offered goats all the ti
me.’

  We laughed. I’d read about the traditional Greek custom of shepherds offering goats to women as a declaration of their love. No doubt Nikos paid this compliment to every female over seventeen who walked into his shop. But we didn’t mind. Not only was he charming, he had a gorgeous smile too.

  Next thing you know, I’d blown five hundred dollars on an exquisite silver and ruby ring. (Gorgeous, stunning and all mine!)

  ‘Are you sure you can afford that?’ Tara asked after we’d walked out.

  ‘An early birthday present from Mum and Dad,’ I lied. In the distance, late-blooming almond trees scattered their pink blossoms in the sea breeze.

  We arrived home to find a freshly baked baklava sitting on the kitchen benchtop and all our laundry washed, dried, ironed and, in Tara’s case (her shorts), mended! We examined them for over fifteen minutes. Marcella’s handiwork was impeccable. We really were in paradise.

  10

  I almost bounded out of bed — almost, that is, until I remembered that today I was meeting with Con. I didn’t want to. I wanted to hang out, laze by the pool, read magazines and slurp strawberry smoothies. Really, that should have been the beauty of being on holidays — not having to think about Con. I should have been basking in the Santorini sunshine pretending I always led this rich and luxurious life. Instead I had to remind myself I was only on pseudo-holidays until the delivery of Marcus’s precious package.

  Finishing my yogurt, I sat quietly in the sun, pushing thoughts of Con aside and focusing on my makebelieve glamorous life. On holidays and living in ‘Claudia’ world, I didn’t have to worry about the ugly sunspots forming on my shoulders or the crow’s-feet multiplying with every eye squint because I was being irresponsible and baking in the sun sans sunscreen.

  It was Santorini sun after all. Each new wrinkle materialising on this holiday would be a permanent reminder of my island soiree. In years to come, I’d point to my furrows and say, ‘I got those reclining on my banana lounge drinking fresh strawberry juice and gazing out across the Mediterranean.’ It would be worth it.

  Besides, didn’t international sun authorities claim that Mediterranean sun was a lot less harsh than Australian sun? Couldn’t I sit in the European sunshine for a full two weeks and only do the equivalent of four days’ worth of Aussie sun damage? I managed to convince myself that, yes, indeed, I could.

  Of course, none of that was going to help when I got back to Brisbane, my tan faded and in its place an extra dozen wrinkles, but I decided not to think about that today.

  Sophie peered over the top of me. ‘Pardon?’

  An extra set of wide little eyes stood beside her. They were also glaring at me.

  ‘Just chatting to myself.’

  ‘Obviously. About anything interesting?’

  ‘I’m justifying why I’m baking in the sun. I’m also trying to remain calm about meeting Con.’

  ‘Con?’

  ‘Remember, Marcus’s envelope? Hey Levi,’ I said and sat up just as Levi clambered onto my lap, ‘if you could have a bowl of chips or a block of chocolate, which would you choose?’

  Sophie glared at me. ‘Why are you asking him about chocolate so soon after breakfast?’

  ‘It’s just one of those questions that pop into your head.’

  ‘Your head, maybe.’

  ‘And I want a three-and-a-half-year-old’s perspective . . . So,’ I said, turning back to Levi, ‘chips or chocolate?’

  ‘Both,’ replied Levi. ‘I want both.’

  ‘You can’t have both, you have to choose.’ Clearly, he hadn’t been paying attention to the rules.

  ‘I want chocolate and chips.’

  ‘I don’t have them, Levi. It’s a hypothetical question.’

  ‘Yeah,’ snorted Sophie. ‘Good luck. Like he’ll understand that explanation!’ She toddled off to shower, leaving me struggling to explain to her child that I’d been pretending. It was only a game. Unsurprisingly, I failed — big time. Within seconds Levi was on the floor screaming for chocolate and chips. A perfect morning in tatters. And all of my own stupid doing.

  ‘Steady on,’ Tara yawned as she ambled down the stairs. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘Claudie not giving me chocolate.’

  ‘Give the kid chocolate, for God’s sake.’

  ‘Can’t. Sophie’ll kill me.’ To which Levi responded by flinging himself on the floor and screaming even louder.

  ‘Listen, I’ll kill you . . . Give Levi some chocolate,’ Tara said, and turned on her heel, walking into the kitchen where she retrieved an unopened family-sized block of Dairy Milk. Back outside, she waved it in front of Levi’s nose. Almost instantly, he stopped, stood up and reached for the chocolate.

  ‘No more tears, okay?’ she said, handing it to him.

  He nodded, before ripping off the paper and foil and cramming the chocolate into his enormous toothy mouth.

  ‘Did you give him chocolate, Claudia?’ Tara and I swung around to see Sophie’s cranky face. Levi, meanwhile, was sucking his chocolate-covered hands in the corner of the lounge room.

  ‘No, she did,’ I said, pointing to Tara.

  ‘Only because he was screaming,’ spluttered Tara.

  ‘And we’re on holidays,’ I added.

  Sophie threw her hands into the air. ‘I just can’t trust you, can I? I have to do everything myself.’ She turned to look at Levi and then back at us and shrugged. ‘Anything to keep the peace.’ She disappeared again, presumably to get dressed.

  That was easy.

  ‘Tara,’ I said. ‘Do you ever think about having kids?’

  ‘Heavy topic. Where’s this coming from?’

  ‘It’s something that’s been bubbling in my head since Angie mentioned it yesterday.’

  ‘Angie?’

  ‘Yeah. She said that Harry brought a love and contentment to her life she could barely describe.’

  ‘So now you want kids?’

  ‘I did think I might have had one or two by now.’

  ‘Is this because of your impending birthday?’

  I shrugged. ‘Parenthood seems so time-consuming, doesn’t it?’

  ‘I’ll say.’ Tara paused. ‘Anyway, I don’t think it’s on the cards for me.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because, as I’ve said to my mother on those rare occasions when we’re speaking, I don’t really like children — and then we go back to not talking again for six months.’ Tara laughed. ‘You really think you’d like to have a couple of kids? You’ll be a pensioner when they’re teenagers; you’ll be one of those “older” mothers in the maternity ward, with the words elderly primigravida emblazoned on your bedhead; you’ll be —’

  ‘Okay, I get it,’ I said, putting up my hands to stop her. ‘I’m old. It’s not a good idea.’ Besides, I wasn’t smart enough to have a child. I didn’t know how planes stayed in the air or why flies had 4000 lenses in each eye. And I certainly didn’t know why the number eleven wasn’t pronounced onety-one.

  I glanced at my watch and my stomach squelched. It was almost time to meet Con. Walking inside to retrieve the envelope, I noticed it wasn’t on the dining room table where I’d put it earlier with my keys, phone and purse. I could have sworn it was there. I looked underneath the table.

  ‘Levi!’ I screeched, as he clenched his chocolate-covered hands tighter around the package. I snatched it away from him.

  ‘Gib it back,’ he hollered. ‘My dinosaur.’

  ‘No, Levi, you can’t draw dinosaurs on this.’ I quickly stuffed the yellow envelope, now crumpled and covered in black texta and chocolate, into my daypack. ‘Have this piece of paper instead.’ I handed him a tattered paper scrap. More crying. So that’s why you don’t give kids chocolate in the morning.

  ‘Come on, Leev, there’s a good boy, shush,’ I said, trying to distract him from the chaos he was about to cause. Why is it that when you shush a child they tend to scream, cry and fling themselves about with all the passion of a teenage girl? ‘Play with your di
nosaurs out on the terrace.’ I put the paper and textas aside and gradually cajoled him out onto the terrace. Levi followed but his temper didn’t improve. He screamed louder. Where was the child’s mother? Tara also seemed to have conveniently disappeared.

  I managed to work out that Levi’s screaming had to do with one of his beloved dinosaurs being missing. So, while he hollered on the patio, no doubt to the annoyance of guests trying to enjoy the church bells and gentle strings of bouzoukis in the distance, I crawled around on my hands and knees in the lounge room looking for the missing stegosaurus.

  I reached behind the sofa cushions. Ah. So that was where my new Dior lipstick had disappeared to. I pocketed it. Sadly, there was no sign of the reptile.

  ‘I want my steg,’ crying, ‘aahh,’ high-pitched squealing, ‘sawrrrrus!’ Huge racking sobs. Levi was utterly oblivious to my attempts to placate him.

  ‘Ahhh, look, Levi,’ I said, clutching my leg dramatically. ‘Something’s got my leg.’ It was as much for my own amusement as his.

  He stopped crying for a millisecond.

  ‘I think it’s a legasaurus,’ I screamed, then laughed hysterically. Levi cried hysterically. He couldn’t see the humour. How he could possibly tell the difference between a stegosaurus and a regular dinosaur was beyond me, but he was adamant that the couple of stray relics I’d found were not the ones he was after.

  It was ugly. My head ached from the screaming, not to mention I’d bonked it against the concrete walls a couple of times as I crawled around on the cold marble floor. I offered Levi everything I could think of; not chocolate obviously, he’d scoffed it all. In the kitchen, I searched for chips. There weren’t any. Fizzy drinks? No. However, there was fresh strawberry juice, which he vomited up on the outdoor table. Ghastly.

  I wanted to pour apple schnapps down his throat and be done with it, but I knew Sophie, the killjoy, would never approve, even if it meant that her son would quietly slumber for the next ten hours. So I resisted the urge. Although, I thought, retrieving the bottle from the kitchen bench, maybe if I drank the liquid, the pain of this nightmare would go away. I was rapidly losing the little self-control I had.